Black Sun Rising, White Moon Soaring
by finaldragonquest
Summary: A series of short stories depicting the relationship of Ichigo and Rukia. All stories will be from Rukia's perspective and all have a base of realism and believability. Bleach 15 - Argumentation 3.
1. Simplicity

Bleach 1  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Simplicity  
><strong>シムプリッシティー<strong>

oOo

It is simple. I have him right where I want him. There will be no escape for him. The anticipation is building to the point where my heart begins to beat faster. It is so simple.

"Rukia, what are you doing?"

Curses. He addresses me despite the fact he still concentrates on his book, never diverting his eyes from its pages.

"Nothing," I say hastily, feeling my voice shake out of surprise. I was sure he couldn't know I was there. I had been so careful, masking my reiatsu to the point of it being near non-existent. Nobody should have been able to notice, yet he did.

"Of course you aren't," he chuckles, his face still hidden by his book, yet his eyes are visible to me. Amusement is clearly written within his gaze. "So, why are you hiding your reiatsu?"

I have to think of an answer, quickly. "I was …"

"Yes?"

"I was testing how well I could mask my reiatsu," I answer, feeling proud of myself for thinking of such a plausible answer so quickly.

His eyes look thoughtful for a moment before he shrugs his shoulders. "It still needs some work," he says nonchalantly, ignoring the look of anger I send him.

"For your information, nobody other than yourself has been able to sense me," I reply hotly, pursing my lips in irritation. "Neither Karin-chan, Yuzu-chan nor Isshin-san were able."

"They were probably being kind," he shoots smugly. "I mean, honestly, your reiatsu could be sensed by a normal person."

I stomp my foot angrily against the floor of his bedroom and twirl on the spot. "Fine," I shoot back. "I'll keep practising then." I start to walk away.

"Where are you going?" His voice filters across the room to me.

"I was going to see Inoue, not that it concerns you."

"Why shouldn't it concern me?"

"With how my reiatsu control is, you should be able to sense me, no matter where I am," I quip, moving the few steps that will take me out of his room …

Only, I find myself unable to do so as his arms wrap around my waist, his head leaning against my shoulders in that familiar, nonchalant way. "Stay," he whispers, his breath tickling against my neck, sending any protests I may have floating in the breeze.

"Why?" I swallow, biting my lower lip.

"Why?" he repeats in confusion. "What do you mean?"

I shuffle nervously as his arms tighten and his lips ghost against my neck. "Why do we keep doing this?" I finally grind out. He sighs at my words and I know I have hit upon a sensitive subject. "Why do we keep dancing around the issue?"

His arms unwind from around my body. He runs his right through his hair in that familiar motion, the one signifying he is uncomfortable or apprehensive. "What is the issue?" he asks, and it instantly makes me furious.

"You know full well what the issue is, Kurosaki Ichigo!" I only ever call him by his full name when I am well and truly annoyed with him. "Why do we keep playing these silly games? How long has it been since we both decided to be honest with one another?"

I wait for an answer. For his sake, it had best be a good one.

"We swore it, a long time ago," he answers finally, and I feel myself nod approvingly.

"You know how I feel, Ichigo," I continue, feeling nervous despite the fact I have already said the words to him. "You know that I love you … but we can't keep doing this."

"I love you as well …" he begins, yet I cut him off.

"Why do you keep acting as though I mean nothing to you then?" I snap. "You kiss me, I kiss you. We make love to one another, then you act distant, as though it means nothing to you, and it should mean everything, like it does to me."

"It does mean … a lot," he mumbles compromisingly and I feel my heart shattering.

"A … lot?" I query. When he fails to answer, I know that I have been deluding myself. "How long?" I ask. He stares past me, his eyes focusing on something behind me – his wall most likely. "How long have you felt this way?"

He sighs again, a deep, shuddering protest from his lungs. "I don't think I have ever felt as deeply for you as you have for me."

I expected as much, yet to actually hear him say the crippling words cuts more deeply than I could have ever imagined. "Why have you let it carry on this long?" When he doesn't answer, it infuriates me further. "Did you want the 'honour' of being the first person I would love?" I snap.

"No …"

"Did you want to be the one to claim my innocence?" I shout harshly.

"No!"

"Or was it that you wanted to be the first to break my heart?" I finished quietly, a small sob escaping my lips. I can't stand in his room any longer. Too many memories are collected here and it hurts for me to remember them. I flee, leaving my fragmented heart in there along with the man who had claimed it, forever.

It was supposed to be simple.

oOo

**Author's Notes: So, I decided that, what with how busy my work life has now become, I would be unable to create any gargantuan chapters towards THS. However, rather than simply give up completely, I thought it would be easier to create a few smaller stories - drabbles if you will. They will all be IchigoxRukia - for better or worse - and they should all contain some sort of moral or ideal, hopefully. I do sincerely hope that you enjoyed this story. I will try to have the next chapter up either later tonight or tomorrow.**

**finaldragonquest**

**08/11/2011**


	2. Picnic

Bleach 2  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Picnic  
><strong>ピックニック<strong>

oOo

A picnic provides the backdrop for a long-awaited day – the day I will finally admit my feelings to him. Gods, it has been a long journey, one filled with indecision and denial – for my part – and complete obliviousness for his. Surely he must have noticed how I smile at him; I smile at most everyone, but when I smile at him, it means more. It is _his_ smile. He can't not have noticed how I blush when he says something completely endearing without meaning to, or how my skin tingles when he brushes his hand against me.

"Rukia, hey," he greets calmly, his hand raised aloft. I'm sitting on a blanket laid across the ground with a large tree covering me in its shade. A hamper filled with both our favourite foods sits lazily by my side.

"Hello, Ichigo," I say quietly, feeling my nervousness already try to overwhelm me. I need to remain calm; he'll get suspicious if I begin to stammer. "Are you going to sit down?"

He does so quickly, stretching his long legs out before him. "Where are Inoue and Ishida?" he asks, looking about himself.

I blush quickly as I remember having to ask them both to conceal the truth from him. I wanted to have this picnic with him, alone, yet I knew he'd wonder why I purposely asked him to come with me on our own; therefore, I decided the easiest way to remedy this problem was for me to ask Inoue and Ishida if they would mind purposely not coming. They both know of my feelings for Ichigo – Ishida, through his perceptive nature, and Inoue, because I entrusted her with my secret. It did not take much persuasion for them to agree. Inoue simply bounced on the spot at the thought of my confession, her face splitting into an enormous smile. Ishida merely adjusted his glasses and nodded his head at me; I took that to mean that he approved of the idea.

"Oh, they ran into some trouble," I invent, gesturing wildly with my hands. Damn my nerves.

Ichigo's eyebrows merely rise a touch. "Is that so?" he says, interlocking his hands. "So, do you want to rearrange this for another time?" he asks quietly; chivalrously.

"No!" I exclaim, causing him to raise his eyebrows once more. "What I mean is, we can enjoy this picnic together, if you'd like?" I finish weakly, feeling my resolve crumble. I wait impatiently as he gazes at me with those eyes I discovered I loved not so long ago.

"Sure," he says finally, lying back against the blanket, his arms sprawled haphazardly about himself.

For a while we sit in companionable silence. I enjoy times like this with him, where neither of us feels the need to fill the void our lack of words create with inane babble. We can simply be with one another and feel comfort in the fact that we are close. "Hey, Rukia?" he asks finally, cutting through the silence.

"Yes?" I reply, feeling my heart beat faster, simply at the tone of his voice.

"I'm feeling kinda hungry," he admits sheepishly.

"Me too," I grin, agreeing with him. I reach into the hamper and retrieve our lunches. I worked hard to create everything I know he likes, all in preparation for when I would deliver the words that will change our fates forever.

"This is really good!" he smiles, taking another bite of his meal.

"Thank you," I blush, feeling indescribably pleased by his reaction.

"Rukia, you made this?" he asks incredulously.

"Of course I did," I frown, my pleasure dissipating rapidly. "I can cook perfectly well."

"Sorry," he says, resting his hand on my shoulder. "It's really delicious. Thank you, Rukia." My face flushes and my skin tingles in response to his hand lightly touching me.

"You're welcome," I hum happily.

Ichigo stands and stretches, making sounds of satisfaction as he leans back as far as he possibly can. His shirt rides up, allowing me an unblocked view of his bare, toned stomach. My humming becomes more pronounced as I watch him. "What is it?" he asks, disconcerted.

"Nothing," I lie, enjoying myself immensely. Sure, I have seen him topless before, but that was before I felt anything other than friendship for him. Now, everything he does has meaning, and the fact that he feels comfortable enough with me to bare his chest makes me feel happy; trusted.

"Okay," he says haltingly before facing me and flashing me a disarming grin. "So, are you ready to go?"

"Go?" I repeat dumbly. I haven't even told him how I feel yet. Why is he rushing me?

"Yeah. No doubt Byakuya will be baying for blood if you don't return to the Soul Society soon."

"Nii-sama," I breathe, feeling tension flood me.

"Byakuya," he corrects firmly, leaning down to me, his hand held out like a lifeline. "Are you ready, Rukia?"

"Yes," I ghost sadly, knowing that my chances of telling him have now slipped into non-existence. Perhaps another day will prove more fruitful, I decide, taking his hand and gripping onto it tightly.

oOo

**Author's Notes: This particular story lends itself quite nicely to a second chapter, so I will definitely come back to it at some point. I hope you are continuing to enjoy Black Sun Rising, White Moon Soaring, and that you will continue to read new chapters as and when I think them up. My utmost thanks to all the alerters and to Katsumi Hatake and bubbleboss1022 for their motivating words of encouragement.**

**finaldragonquest**

**09/11/2011**


	3. Respect

Bleach 3  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Respect  
><strong>リッスペックト<strong>

oOo

"It simply isn't fair," she cries, her face flushed while tears run down her face, creating shimmering rivers down her reddened cheeks. "I can't do anything to help," she bemoans, gripping her hands tightly together and wringing them with undue force. "All I am is a burden. I can never help. I'm nothing more than a hindrance. It's no wonder he doesn't even look at me."

"That isn't true."

"You know it is. All I want is for him to look at me, _truly_ look at me, and realise just how much he means to me."

"He does see you …"

"That isn't true though," she admits slowly; sadly. "All he sees is what he _chooses _to see. How long have we been friends now?"

"You and I, or you and he?"

"He and me," she responds, her voice nearing its normal cheery nature at the slight joke.

"For quite a while now."

"Exactly. Yet, even after all this time, we still haven't progressed in our relationship at all. I mean, honestly, he still calls me Inoue."

"He's just showing you respect."

"No, it's more like he's distancing himself from me for some reason."

"I don't think that's necessarily the truth …"

"But, I'm no better," Inoue interrupts, her hair waving wildly out of her agitation. "I still call him Ishida-kun. I'm pathetic …"

"Don't say nonsense like that." She looks up, startled. "You're one of the strongest, most courageous and brilliant people I know. Never let me hear you call yourself pathetic again."

"Kuchiki-san …"

"You are anything but pathetic," I declare strongly. "If you feel this strongly about it, perhaps you should take the initiative," I suggest.

"What do you mean?"

"Next time you see Ishida, smile at him and call him Uryū-kun instead."

She blushes brightly. "I couldn't do something like that," she whispers.

"Where's the brave young woman gone?" I challenge. When she fails to answer, I grasp her shoulders. "Inoue?" She looks at me, her face contorted by her efforts not to cry. "Sometimes, when you want something really badly, you have to be willing to risk everything to get it."

"I know that, but …"

"I won't tell you what you should do, Inoue. Ultimately, it's your decision," I say as I rise to my feet. "Just, think about what I've said, okay?"

"I will," she nods, then turns to head to her home.

I walk a matter of ten steps before I feel his reiatsu, burning brightly no more than a few seconds away. I look up into the sky and see him descend, Zangetsu in his hand. "Hey," I say brightly.

"Hey yourself," he responds cheekily, leaning forward to capture my lips in an honest, loving kiss.

"I will never get tired of that feeling," I sigh happily as we part.

"Me neither," he replies, taking my hand in his. "So, what did Inoue want?" he asks as we head home.

"She and Ishida are having difficulties getting beyond their preconceived barriers," I say, feeling frustrated on her behalf. "She really cares about him."

"I know she does," he answers, sharing in my agitation. "I wish there was something we could do to help them. You know what Ishida's like though. He values their friendship too much to be willing to risk her rejecting him."

"I can understand that feeling," I reply, squeezing his hand.

"It will all work out for the best, I'm sure," Ichigo says as he interlocks our fingers.

"I hope so," I whisper as the sun begins to set, providing an amazing tapestry to our eyes as we walk together.

"Ichigo?" I say as he brushes his teeth in our bathroom.

"Yeah?" he garbles, his mouth filled with toothpaste foam. I chuckle at the sight.

"How do you know Ishida likes Inoue?" I ask. It's something that I have been wondering about since he mentioned it.

"Oh, that," he mumbles before he rinses his mouth. "I might have, accidentally, got on his nerves about it so much, he shouted about caring deeply for her."

"That wasn't very nice," I laugh as he mock pouts.

"Maybe not, but at least he finally admitted it. Perhaps it will make it easier for him to say it to Inoue."

"Perhaps," I concede, before I clamber into bed. Ichigo joins me shortly after. I lay my head against his chest and smile at the sound of his steady heartbeat. "Goodnight," I say sleepily. "Love you." I feel Ichigo stiffen beneath my head. I realise belatedly what I have said to him. I have never told him I love him, not once. All this talk of romance and unrequited feelings has left my mind open to spilling closely guarded secrets. "Ichigo.…"

"It's fine," he says shortly. "I just … wow." He looks at me with wonder in his eyes. "How … how long have you felt like this?" he asks.

I lie in silence for a few heartbeats. "For a while, now," I answer. I feel, rather than see him nod, as I have given up staring into his eyes. I'm afraid. I don't want to see the potential look of pity he may have plastered across his face.

"Rukia." He gently lifts my face so he can look at me. "I need some time to think through my feelings. Is that alright with you?" His eyes are strong, yet his emotions are clear for me to see. He doesn't want to feel pushed into a snap decision, one he may end up regretting later in time. The fact that he is asking my permission means he believes in me to wait for him.

"Okay," I nod, whispering my words. "I'll wait for you."

"Thank you," he says, craning his neck to kiss my forehead before he falls back. Within a few moments he is deeply asleep. I wait a few minutes longer before I disengage myself from him and quietly clamber to the roof. There, I watch the stars twinkle in the velvet night, trying to calmly fathom just how I have managed to royally ruin everything.

oOo

**Author's Notes: So, another tale that demands a second chapter; these are popping up like wildfire. I do sincerely hope you are enjoying these short stories. My utmost thanks to new and old alerters and to Katsumi Hatake and bubbleboss1022 for their kind reviews. Hopefully, next story will be up tomorrow morning. Hope you'll give it a read :)**

**finaldragonquest**

**10/11/2011**


	4. UnReasonable

Bleach 4  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Un/Reasonable  
><strong>アン・リーズナブル<strong>

oOo

It takes a brave person to admit they are wrong; unfortunately, I was neither brave, nor willing to admit I was wrong. Even when I saw him cosy up to her, their faces mere inches away, I still vehemently denied what I was seeing. It was surely a figment of my imagination, I reasoned in my rather unreasonable frame of mind.

Reasonable, yes.

When he took her hand in his and tightly gripped it, I guessed that he was merely warming it for her. It was rather chilly, to be reasonable, that winter's day, so he, being the chivalrous person he was, would see that she was without any gloves and would offer to warm her hands.

Totally reasonable.

When he gazed into her eyes with that look of pure devotion, I figured that he must simply be trying to explain something to her. Yes, that was it. His eyes have always been his most expressive feature. You can always tell exactly what he is thinking by looking into those brown eyes.

Totally and utterly reasonable.

When he bent in and took her lips for his own, a line had been crossed; an unknown threshold that no person should ever breach.

Unreasonable.

When he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight to his chest; the look of contentment on his face. It was clear for all to see: he was in love.

Totally unreasonable.

When she sighed against his chest and he stroked her hair with his palm, whispering soothing words to her. How she smiled; it lit up, brighter than the streetlight under which they were standing.

Totally and utterly unreasonable.

I strode over to them, my face contorted into a grimace of pain, hurt and loss. The surprise written in his glance as he watched me - slowly, artistically, mockingly – remove the wedding band around my finger, before I threw it into the freshly deposited snow and stamped on it.

Totally reasonable, although a bit melodramatic.

He tried to stammer out excuses; I wouldn't hear any of them. I merely let my voice reach the heavens as I shouted out to all those gathered in that busy part of town that my no-longer husband was a lying chest who would break the heart of anyone who dared to fall for him.

Totally, utterly and justifiably reasonable.

I started to cry at that point, my tears trying to freeze instantly on my face where they fell. I could hear people's voices near me, asking if I were alright, yet, to me, it seemed as though their words were drifting through an ocean current before being unceremoniously deposited in my ears.

Unreasonable. Why should I shed tears for him? How was it right that I should be the one in tatters because of his indiscretion?

I fled as swiftly as I could, heading in no particular direction other than away. I couldn't stand to see his pathetic face, nor her outraged one. Perhaps I had saved her from having to suffer a similar fate at some point; I did not know. I could hear the crunch of snow underfoot as someone raced after me; his voice came over the swelling, intermingled chorus of unknown people lamenting the sight before their eyes. I cared not; I concentrated on my own fleeing to the exclusion of near-all else.

Unreasonable; thoroughly so.

I reached his home in what seemed like mere moments. I slammed my palm against the door, pounding with what force I could muster. He came at once, took one look at me and understood. He didn't try to coddle me; he simply stepped aside and let me into his home.

When my no-longer husband came slamming on the door, a sparse while after I had collapsed to my knees in his hallway, he simply opened it, took one look at my pathetic excuse for a former man and sent him hurtling head-first to the ground. No words were exchanged; action was what was required and he fulfilled that role; admirably. He shut the door with exaggerated calm, a furious scowl on his face.

He knelt with me and gave me a cushion to rest my head on; his chest. I cried again then; long, hard and furious. He didn't mind that I was drenching his shirt with my foolish tears, nor that I had descended on him in such a state; he merely sat with me, keeping me company and letting me know, through his actions, that he was there for me.

Just as he always had been, I thought with startling realisation.

I paused in my crying to look at his face; no sign of anger could be seen. His eyes reflected the sorrow I felt, yet why should he feel sorrowful? On my behalf? Because I had to have the rotten luck in choosing quite possibly the worst person to fall in love with? No, none of these things. It was an unfathomable conundrum to me at that moment.

He wrapped his arms around my back and squeezed briefly; I responded in kind, thanking him silently for continuing to put up with me and my dramas. Honestly, if he weren't such an honest, good-hearted person, I know he would have become exasperated by my continued mistakes and would have given up on me.

"Ichigo," I breathed, looking into his face and trying to smile; it ended up being a poor example of one, but still, he smiled in response. "Thank you." I meant it.

"Always, Rukia," he said, and I believed him.

"And that was the night things changed between your father and I," I say to our children, watching the girls sigh – ever the romantics – while the boys make rude gestures until Ichigo scolds them. "Anyway, I think it's time you all trot to bed. Off you go!" I smile, giving them each a kiss goodnight while Ichigo hugs them, before, with tired feet, they traipse up the stairs. Ichigo comes to sit next to me and leans his head against my shoulder. I hum happily.

"It really is a good story," he says, leaning back so he can see my face. "Perhaps, one day, you will be able to tell our grandchildren about it."

"Not too soon, I hope," I laugh, even though I am alarmed by how quickly time flies by.

"Definitely not too soon," he agrees, grasping my hand and dragging it to his face. "Can you imagine the look on the faces of anyone who dares to ask our girls out when they see me glare at them?"

"They'd most likely be terrified," I nod, laughing at his mock outraged face.

"Hey, if they can't handle my angry face, what are they gonna be like when they have to protect our daughters? If they can't even take a little glaring here and there, there is no way I'm going to allow them to date our children." His face takes on the protective gaze I have come to know and adore about him.

"Fine, you win," I say soothingly, watching as a grin spreads across his face. "What about the boys?"

"What about them?" he asks.

"How are you going to look out for them?"

"Huh? Oh, they'll be fine. I'll just leave them to their own devises."

"Ichigo!" I exclaim, swatting his face with my palm. "You sound just like your father."

"I was joking," he laughs, even as he rubs his smarting face. "Don't worry, Rukia. I'll make sure _all_ our children are safe."

"I know you will," I sigh contentedly.

A most reasonable turn of events.

oOo

**Author's Notes: Another story for your reading pleasure. Hope you enjoyed it; my personal favourite thus far. On a side note, Skyrim is finally out today (yay!) which means that I will be absorbed with it for quite a while. Nevertheless, I still intend to try and update every day. Tomorrow morning, another story will be ready for you all. My thanks to new alerters and my most gracious thanks to Katsumi Hatake, Rukia's Reflection and bubbleboss1022 for their awesome reviews.**

**finaldragonquest**

**11/11/2011**


	5. Admirer

Bleach 5  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Admirer  
><strong>アドマイラー<strong>

oOo

"What is that?" Arisawa asks, looking at the piece of paper held tightly in my hand.

"It was peeking out of my locker," I explain as she sits next to Inoue.

"What does it say?" she asks, interested.

I fold open the sheet and recite the words clearly: "'Come to the rooftop after school.'"

"Nothing more?" she questions, disappointed. Just as I'm about to respond, another voice cuts across me.

"Who is it from?" asks Ishida as he slumps into the chair between Inoue and myself.

"I don't know," I respond, looking to the base of the note again. "All that's written is some initials: 'IDC,' whatever _that_ means."

"Ooh!" cries Inoue, her eyes widening dramatically. "It must be a secret admirer."

My cheeks burn. "Don't be ridiculous," I stutter, bringing my bag to the table before me. "It must be a mistake–" I stop as a hand rips the letter from my grasp. I whirl to face the thief. "Ichigo," I snarl. "Give me that."

He merely grins at me. "So," he exaggerates the word, "what's this supposed to be, Rukia?" He starts to read it before I even utter a word.

"Hey!" I exclaim indignantly, trying to take it back; no matter how I twist and grasp, he manages to dodge away, dancing between my attempts like a reed. After a short while I stop my assault, breathing heavily. I eye him harshly.

"Relax, Rukia," he chuckles as I regain control of my breathing. He reads unhindered as I sulk in my seat. At length, he looks up. "'IDC,' huh? Sounds like some sort of government agency."

"Maybe," I say sullenly. A hand settles on my shoulder. I follow the limb to its source. "Ichigo?"

"Sounds like you're genuinely disappointed," he says, laughing at the look of outrage I send him. "Well, if you feel so strongly about this, I'll come with you, if you want?"

"What do you mean?" I question suspiciously. "Are you trying to make fun of me?"

"Another time, sure," he flips nonchalantly. "Right now, no. I'll make sure whoever this IDC is doesn't do anything…wrong to you."

I smile sweetly at him. "Concerned for me, are you, I-chi-go?" I pronounce his name in three separate breaths, my eyelids fluttering at him. To my surprise, he flushes beet-red for a handful of seconds before he resumes his usual demeanour.

"Who knows if it might not be some weird old guy with a handful of candy," he says, clearly offended. "If you don't want my help, then–"

I shake my head. "Thank you, Ichigo. I'll feel better with you there." I see Inoue and Arisawa exchange meaningful glances. "What are you two scheming?" I question, suspicion lacing my voice.

"Nothing!" exclaims Inoue, far too emphatically for my liking. I can see small beads of sweat form on her forehead as I continue to gaze at her. I see Arisawa narrow her eyes at me and I instantly back off. Not even Ichigo messes with Arisawa.

"Anyway, I'll be heading back to class," Ichigo drawls. "Anyone coming with me?"

"Coming, Kurosaki-kun!" cries Inoue excitedly, bounding out of her seat.

"I will come as well," replies Ishida stoically, grasping his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

As they move away, Ichigo calls over his back, "I'll meet you at the rooftop five minutes before school ends, Rukia. Don't be late!"

"I won't," I shout in response before waving at his receding form. Whoever you are, IDC, I will find out just what your game is, I think savagely, before I take up my bag and head for afternoon classes.

The afternoon passes by far too slowly for my liking. I sit watching the clock above the door more than actually listening to our subject. More than once, I get my name called out at random and am expected to answer a question I never even heard. Unsurprisingly, I am given detention. Luckily, I am told to attend tomorrow. Thank the heavens for small mercies. Nearing the end of the door, I call to the teacher and request that I be let out early. She is furious but I couldn't care less. Without even waiting for her reply, I bound past her and race in the direction of the rooftop. With mere seconds to spare, I burst through the door leading outside.

The brisk breeze hits me in the face with the force of a hurricane, blowing my bangs about my face. Leaves rustle about on the ground; autumn has descended, blanketing everything in its chilling grip. Ichigo leans nonchalantly against the steel fencing – hands in his pockets, earphones stuck, unsurprisingly, in his ears. He looks bored; perhaps he regrets choosing to wait with me, I think, feeling somewhat upset. Still, I can ill afford to dwell; the bell rings, loud and shrill, signalling the end of the day. Voices swell up in discordant chorus as hundreds of people mill about, all with a single-minded purpose: get the hell out as soon as humanly possible.

Bracing myself, I walk over to him; his eyes are closed tightly and he appears to be mumbling under his breath. I tap his arm. He starts visibly, his eyes widening in shock. When he sees it's me, he relaxes and removes his earphones. "Rukia, hey," he greets cheerily enough, although I can sense an undercurrent of worry.

"Hey," I reply in kind, wondering just what is up with him. "Are you alright?" I try tentatively.

"Huh?" he replies intelligently. He seems staggered.

"I said, are you alright?" I ask, now concerned about him. His face is growing pale. Perhaps he has caught a chill waiting out here for me, I ponder, thinking quickly as to whether I have anything I could lend him to warm him up. Checking in my bag, I retrieve my scarf. "Here, wear this," I say.

"I couldn't. It's cold." He points out the blatantly obvious. "You need it."

"Shut up and accept it," I say forcefully, standing on my tiptoes to reach him; he is ridiculously tall, although I think Sado is at least as tall; probably taller actually. I wrap the scarf around his neck and tie it, letting the ends drape over his shoulders. "There! Very stylish," I say joyously, smiling at him.

His eyes glaze over. I consider asking what he is thinking. "Ichi–" My words are cut off as his lips crash into mine.…

oOo

**Author's Notes: Another tale that demands a second installment; Admirer will be back. I'm loving the positive response I'm receiving for these stories. It was originally designed to wean me back into writing, but I am thoroughly enjoying coming up with different stories. It's a lot easier than gargantuan chapters all to do with the same topic. My thanks to the alerters and my gratitude to metsfan101, Rukia's Reflection, bubbleboss1022 and Katsumi Hatake for their encouraging reviews. Tomorrow morning, another story will be ready for viewing; I sincerely hope you'll enjoy that as well.**

**finaldragonquest**

**12/11/2011**


	6. Argumentation

Bleach 6  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Argumentation  
><strong>アーギュメンテイシュン<strong>

oOo

"Why can't you just leave it alone?" I shout, furious beyond belief. I square off against him, my hands tightly clenched at my sides as I stare him down with a heavy glare.

"Because I just want to know the truth!" he growls back, a forceful scowl on his face. "Is that so difficult to understand?"

"No, but is it oh-so-difficult to understand when I don't feel comfortable talking about it?" I shoot back, moving to the door wearily.

"Wait, where are you going?" he asks, surprise overriding his anger.

"I don't know; somewhere," I reply enigmatically; then I open the door and head out into the world. My feet beat an uneven path along the pavements; rain falls steadily overhead, slicking the paths and roads, making my already faltering steps damn-near treacherous. I simply allow one foot to step in front of the other, ignoring direction in favour of devoting my mind fully to fathoming the solution to the awkward situation. "Damn it, Ichigo," I growl out-loud needlessly. "Why do you keep insisting on making this so difficult?"

"Kuchiki-san." A male voice breaks through my ruminations; glancing about myself, I notice him: tall; lean; and dressed like a monk from a fourteenth century monastery; there is simply no doubt as to who it can be.

"Ishida," I respond evenly; at least, as evenly as I can manage considering the circumstances. "You're out late," I say conversationally. "Hollow?"

"There was," he answers, "however, Sado-san had already dispatched it ere I came close." He looks at me thoughtfully. "Did you not notice it?"

I start in surprise. "Um.…No," I admit sheepishly, feeling embarrassment course through me. "I was…preoccupied." My voice fades into insignificance as I recall our argument. "Damn it," I curse quietly.

A hand on my shoulder shocks me back to wakefulness. "Would you like to talk about whatever is bothering you?" Ishida asks calmly. I look at him, my mind a whir of activity. "Perhaps it would not hurt to have a second opinion," he shrugs. I think, pondering and agonising over my choice. He waits quietly; patiently.

At length, I sigh deeply. "Ichigo and I," I begin shakily, "we had a…disagreement."

"That is to be expected," he replies briskly. My eyes widen in shock and sudden outrage.

"How exactly do you reckon that, Ishida?" I demand hotly, my chest heaving.

Ishida doesn't shrink away from my outburst; rather, he stands stoically, almost as though bracing himself against the onset of a wind-storm. "Neither you nor Kurosaki are exactly the calmest of people," he explains calmly, looking at me as though it is the most obvious observation in the world. I begin to simmer in shame. "Put two volatile forces together; eventually, an explosion is bound to occur; such is nature."

"We aren't volcanoes, Ishida," I respond.

"Neither are you tranquil lakes, Kuchiki-san," he succinctly replies. "Still, perhaps my similes are not the most helpful to you at the moment. What was your disagreement due to?"

I pause as I consider how to answer him. Finally, I release a pent-up breath and attempt to explain. By the time I conclude, Ishida is staring at me with an unusual intensity and his brow is furrowed.

"You are certain?" he asks, to which I nod briefly; joltingly. "I can see how that could become an issue of contention. Is he aware?" he asks tenuously.

"I haven't told him yet. I…I was afraid.…Afraid of his reaction."

"I will not claim to understand the workings of Kurosaki's mind; frankly, I do not want to consider half the things that occur to him," at that, I snigger, "but I do know that he will stand by you regardless."

"I'm not sure.…" I reply despondently.

"You have come through far too much for this to pull you apart," Ishida says sagely; with conviction. I look at him through hazy, tear-filled eyes and smile from the bottom of my heart.

"Thank you, Ishida," I say with meaning layered in my tone.

"You are welcome, Kuchiki-san," he replies, before placing a hand on my shoulder in companionship. "Would you like me to walk you home?"

"No, that's fine, thank you," I shake my head. "You have a home to go to yourself," I say pointedly and he flushes faintly.

"You are correct," he agrees. "You are certain you do not want my company?" he asks with a faint pouting edge to his voice. Clearly, he has been spending too much time with his beloved.

"I'm fine, Ishida. Please, don't coddle me."

He flushes again, this time from embarrassment. "Very well. In that case, I will be off."

"Okay. Say hello to Inoue for me when you get home."

"I will. Be sure to change out of those sodden clothes when you return home," he says with a hint of irony, considering he's just as wet as I. Yet, before I can retort, he waves a hand in farewell. "Stay safe, Kuchiki-san," he says, then bounds into the air, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with practised ease. I remain for a few moments longer, contemplating exactly how to say to Ichigo what must be said. Once my thoughts become less turbulent, I begin a slow pace back to our home where I will have to face this most daunting of obstacles.

oOo

**Author's Notes: So, yet another story demanding another chapter to conclude it; honestly, I keep finding too much inspiration to make long stories. I shan't complain, however, as if I concentrate on completing each of these stories fully in one go, I would never meet my self-imposed deadline so I can keep posting daily. I hope you'll forgive me for the lack of conclusion; Argumentation will be completed when we return to it. I realise there isn't much Ichigo/Rukia in this one, but this is simply a precursor to one almighty discussion; one I've had in my mind for a very long time. I hope you'll like my thoughts. My thanks to the alerters and my most humble gratitude to Katsumi Hatake, Rukia's Reflection, Hinata-Rae 7-3.15, bubbleboss1022, SomethingInTheWater (x4) and Kaoru Kato for their kind words. As always, see you all tomorrow morning for a new tale from the annals of Black Sun Rising, White Moon Soaring.**

**finaldragonquest**

**13/11/2011**


	7. Relative

Bleach 7  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Relative  
><strong>レラティブ<strong>

oOo

"Come on, Ichigo!" I call out, making sure my voice carries to our bedroom. "We're going to be late!"

I hear footsteps pound against the ceiling before he shouts, "I know! Stop pestering me!"

"Well, if you didn't snore so loudly, you would have heard me calling you an hour ago!" I respond wickedly, a malicious grin on my face. Truthfully, I had turned his alarm off. I wanted him to have a little extra sleep. He is still human when all is said and done.

I can sense the scowl forming on his face, even though I cannot possibly see him. "Why, you…." he growls out; then he rushes to the bathroom and slams the door behind him.

"Not helping!" I trill, then turn my attention to ensuring I have everything I need: gikongan, check; zanpakutō, secure at my waist; lieutenant's badge, safely attached to my arm.

Nerve, questionable.

These days seem to come around so fast nowadays. Perhaps it is because I fret over-much that the time between them seems short. I try to sit and watch for Ichigo; all I succeed in doing is making a mess of my shihakushō as I fidget. Calm down, Rukia, I advise myself. You're agitating over nothing. When I see Ichigo stroll down the stairs dressed in his usual T-shirt and jeans, I know that there is a reason why I loathe these days. "Ichigo!" I cry, racing at him. "Did you forget? It's _that_ time again."

His face splits in confusion before a look of comprehension dawns and he slams his daikōshō against his chest; with a blinding retort, his shinigami form appears before me. "Sorry, Rukia," he apologizes swiftly, "I completely forgot."

"Clearly," I reply sardonically, retrieving Shirayuki from her sheath; performing the usual slashing motion, I create us a senkaimon. While we travel through the Dangai, Ichigo grasps my hand in his. I enjoy the feeling of his skin against mine. I concentrate on it to the exclusion of all else as we travel through the desolate world linking my world and his.

We alight in the Soul Society. Looking around us, a small crowd has formed: Renji, his hair pulled into its usual ponytail, along with his lieutenant, a small, demure girl who clashes horribly with his personality; it's a wonder they don't end up hating one another. Renji needs someone with courage to tell him when he's being too hot-headed; it's why we have gotten along so well all these years.

Captain Zaraki, with Lieutenant Kusajishi attached to his back as per usual, shouting his challenge at Ichigo who mumbles under his breath about wishing Kenpachi would forget their rivalry. I don't know why Ichigo doesn't simply accept the challenge; with how strong he has become, I find it highly unlikely Zaraki would be able to defeat him. Perhaps it would allow him to lay the ghosts of their battle to rest. The final person in the crowd is who draws my attention.

"Nii-sama…" I breathe, feeling confusion. Every time we have come to the Soul Society as a couple – Ichigo and I – we have had to be escorted to see nii-sama, even though I clearly know where he resides, having lived there for many years prior. To see him deigning to share his presence with others is a new, startling and completely unexpected revelation.

"Rukia, hey!" calls Renji, bounding over to us. Without preamble, he wraps me up in a bone-crushing hug. "It's good to see you," he says, before releasing his hold and extending his hand to Ichigo. "It's been a while," he says good-naturedly as Ichigo grips his arm tightly and shakes it.

"Definitely," Ichigo agrees, looking to Renji's lieutenant who looks as though she's about ready to pass out. "Is she okay?" he asks quietly. Renji gives her a look that makes her start; she blushes deeply.

"She's just overwhelmed," he complains. "Ever since she heard the great Kurosaki Ichigo was going to be here today, you're all she's talked about. It's been really annoying, to be honest. I mean, I could tell her anything she wants to know about the Winter War–"

"Sounds like he's sweet on his lieutenant, doesn't it?" Ichigo asks me, even while Renji is talking, a healthy tint to his cheeks.

"Sounds like it," I grin, laughing at Renji's indignation as he realises we aren't listening to him.

"Keep it down!" he whispers, waving his hands placatingly at us. "She'll hear you!"

"Ichigo! Let's fight!" commands Captain Zaraki, his blade already in his hand and quivering in anticipation.

"No way!" cries Ichigo as he begins to shunpo away, his 'opponent' right behind him.

"Don't run away! Let's have some fun!"

I watch them leave with a disdainful expression; I look to nii-sama and see it mirrored in his own visage. I start, then blush self-consciously before a small smile shows itself. His expression remains stony ere my smile falters. Resigning myself to another day of forced pleasantries and false expressions, I slowly make my way to him. "Nii-sama," I say reservedly, bowing my head to him. I chance a glance upwards after a span of seconds; he hasn't moved nor given any indication that he has even noticed. I give up on hoping for anything to have changed this time.

"Let us be off, Rukia," he says airily; regally, with all the authority of the Kuchiki enforcing his words.

"Yes, nii-sama," I answer despondently, shuffling into line behind him. He takes one look to make sure I am following, then turns and heads in the direction of the Kuchiki Manor; I follow like the obedient person I should have been, rather than the independent woman I am. I change so much on this one day, but if it pleases him, I will gladly bear it. For better or worse, he is my brother.

oOo

**Author's Notes: And so, we reach the end of the first week of Black Sun Rising, White Moon Soaring. I hope it's been as enjoyable to you all as it has to me. Don't think that it's over though; oh no. I have lots of ideas to work through, so please, continue to read these tales. Tomorrow morning will start a new week; perhaps it will be the start of a new Rukia too. My thanks to all the alerters. My greatest thanks go to Katsumi Hatake, SomethingInTheWater (x2), bubbleboss1022 and Rukia's Reflection for their kick-ass reviews. Week 2 begins tomorrow!**

**finaldragonquest**

**14/11/2011**


	8. LoveHate

Bleach 8  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Love/Hate  
><strong>ラブ・ヘイト<strong>

oOo

Sitting at Ichigo's desk, I leaf through the books I've collected. The topic? Self-confidence. While I act outwardly confident and self-assured to the world en masse, inside I'm nothing more than a quivering mess of uncertainty and doubt. With more belief in myself, I will be able to tell Ichigo how I feel, finally, and put an end to this charade.

"Rukia?" I hear Ichigo's voice carry from the kitchen. I know I have sparse time in which to hide my horde. Thinking fast, I lift them in a bundle and plunge them unceremoniously into my closet. He never looks in here, I think victoriously, jumping back to the chair as his head pokes through the door. "Oh, you're in here," he says, coming to stand near me. He smells strongly of sweat, unsurprising considering the hour-long run he's just endured.

"Where else was I going to be?" I question snarkily, before making an exaggerated noise of protest. "You stink," I say without preamble.

"You don't say?" he replies flippantly before dumping his music player and phone next to me. "I'm going for a shower since I smell so bad," he continues in tones of mock hurt.

I merely grin. "Good. I don't want to be near someone who smells worse than a trashcan."

"Always with the insults," he sighs, yet he sends me a grin as he flaunts his way to the bathroom, giving me an unforgettable view of his bare legs. My face heats up as he turns, notices me watching him then raises his eyebrows as though to question me. I quickly turn away, suddenly finding his bed most intriguing. With a chuckle, I hear him shut the door, leaving me feeling flustered and foolish.

If I can't even handle seeing a little of his flesh, what am I going to be like if he kisses me? I gulp, feeling the implications deeply in my soul as my stomach begins to churn with anticipation. Okay Rukia, it's time to build up your courage. You can do this. It's four simple words: I. Really. Like. You. Simplicity itself. My inner monologue does little to settle my nerves; if anything, it simply makes them manifest themselves more thoroughly. Calm down; just breathe.

Ichigo steps out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped about his lower torso while he dries his hair with another.

Keep breathing.

Water trails down his bare chest in warped tendrils, like writhing snakes.

Don't…pass…out…

I knead my lower lip between my teeth as I contemplate how I'm supposed to speak normally to him when he's looking so…delectable. I feel something cold and wet trickle on my head. "What?" I cry as I jump free. Ichigo, in his infinite wisdom, has decided to wring his sopping wet towel all over my head, drenching me in the process. I glare angrily at him. "What in the hell was that for?" I demand hotly.

"You were so far out of it, I figured the easiest way to get your attention would be to give you a bath," he replies with a crooked grin. "Besides, if I have to smell nice, so should you. It's only fair," he adds with no concern for his continued well-being.

"Why you…" I start, before I notice him blush deeply. "What?"

"Rukia…you…your shirt is…" I look down and notice that my top is now see-through thanks to his stunt with the towel, and my underwear is now not so under.

"Get out!" I screech before swatting him across the face, a heavy blush covering my face. He looks dumbfounded before he complies with my wishes. I breathe heavily as the door shuts behind him. I hear him collapse against it, his body slumping to the floor, if the thuds can be interpreted correctly.

"Rukia?" he calls through the door. I ignore him as I begin a search for a new top and bra. No way am I keeping cold and wet clothing on; it's a sure-fire way to catch a chill. I take off my shirt; flinging it onto Ichigo's bed, I open my closet. "Rukia?"

I can't hear you, I think savagely as I root through my closet, looking for something suitable. Finally, I sight a nice shirt at the back. Rummaging my way through, I grab it and yank. Unfortunately, this causes all of my self-confidence books to cascade over the floor, causing one massive crash. I stand, stricken by the mess. Oh boy, I think exasperatedly.

"Rukia!" comes Ichigo's cry of alarm as he slams open the door and rushes through; his eyes take in my nearly naked chest, the puddle of books on the floor, then come back up for another glance at my stomach. "You're alright!" he says in relief, even as he continues to ogle my body. "Rukia?"

My face is flushed luminous-red and I have never felt angrier in my entire life. "Kurosaki Ichigo! I. Really. Hate. You!" I scream, pointing a shaking finger at the door. "Get out!" I declare as I turn my back on him to save my already compromised modesty.

As he shuts the door behind himself again, I try to calm my ragged breathing. I had wanted the first time he saw me unclothed to be a time of my choosing, when it would be special, meaningful and romantic; not as a result of misunderstandings. "Hey, Rukia?" he calls through the door, trepidation colouring his voice.

"What?" I say weakly; tremulously.

"That was kind of funny, huh?"

"Not exactly what I was expecting from today, that's for sure," I reply with a short, shaky laugh.

"What were all those books about?" he asks quietly.

"For a homework assignment," I answer quickly, hoping the speed with which I answered will make up for the way I said the lie. I quickly grab the books in my arms and force them back into the chasm from whence they came, otherwise known as my closet. I force the doors shut with vehement fury.

"Oh, okay," he says, suspicion heavy in his voice. "So, can I come in?"

"Not yet," I say as I lean heavily against the closed closet. How wrong could this day possibly go? I said three of the four simple words; only flaw was I exchanged the one that has the most meaning with its almost exact antonym. "Ichigo?"

"Yes?"

"I didn't mean that. When I said I hated you, I mean," I clarify.

"Oh, that. It kind of hit me by surprise. I mean, I thought we got along pretty well," he breathes.

"We do. I was just angry, and I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Alright."

I wrap myself in my shirt, allowing it to fall over my head and shoulders, covering my chest. The bra will have to wait until later. "You can come back in," I call softly.

Ichigo steps through, his body covered by a loose-fitting shirt and some jeans; he must have rummaged for them while we were having our conversation through the door. Disturbing; to think how easily two people can speak when something covers their gaze from the other. How much more difficult it is when you have to look into that person's eyes and see the heartbreak, joy or pain reflect within them.

"…you."

Ichigo said something to me, but I was so absorbed in my own thoughts, I failed to notice his words. "Sorry, Ichigo. What was that? I didn't hear you."

He looks stricken; slowly, a small smile appears on his face. "Nevermind. It wasn't particularly important." His face says otherwise, but I take him at his word.

"Okay. If you're sure?"

"I am," he says before he wraps his arms around me briefly. "Sorry for everything," he says solemnly. I return his hug with equal intensity.

"So am I," I say sadly.

oOo

**Author's Notes: Thus, the second week begins. My thanks to you all for sticking with me thus far; hopefully, you'll see this out until the end. My thanks go to the new alerterers**™ **and my utmost thanks go to Katsumi Hatake, Rukia's Reflection and bubbleboss1022 for their awesomeness. That is all.**

**finaldragonquest**

**15/11/2011**


	9. Argumentation 2

Bleach 9  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Argumentation 2  
><strong>アーギュメンテイシュン<strong>

oOo

The rain slows its assault as I turn the corner leading to our home. Water sloshes in my shoes, and my hair lies in withered tatters, knotted beyond any sort of control. I see the light peeking through the windows in the distance, like a beacon calling me back.

Ichigo stands in the doorway.

He is just as wet as I, his hair matted to his head, the usual spikes lost to the inexorable density of rain adorning his crown. His shirt clings to his muscles; the light from the hallway hits him in just the right places, casting deep shadows about his form that emphasise and accentuate his form. His head jolts up as he sees me approach - a drenched, pitiable creature wanting nothing more than to curl up in front of the fire and sleep.

He runs from the house to my side instantly. "Rukia," he breathes with relief. "What were you thinking?" His voice gains an angry edge as he wraps his arms around me. "My God, you're soaked."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," I reply edgily.

He frowns. "Let's get you inside," he says, gripping me by the shoulders. I allow him to half-push, half-drag me back to the house. My limbs are nearly frozen to the marrow and my teeth chatter.

Inside the house, the air instantly becomes warmer. Ichigo brings me to the fire. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes."

"I bet you say that to every girl you meet," I joke, watching a deep scowl form on his face.

"I only ever say it to you," he responds quietly as a prickle of shame spikes in my chest, "because you're important to me."

Considering I want to resolve things between us, I'm managing to ruin things further. Carry on like this and you won't even be able to count him as your friend, yet alone your lover, I scold myself. "I'm sorry," I mumble, feeling the shame fester as he comes over to me; with exaggerated slowness, he lifts the sodden shirt over my head. Water dribbles over the floor as the article is flung carelessly near the fire to dry. My hair is a complete mess, droplets streaking to the ground, adding to the already large puddle forming beneath my feet. He kisses my shoulders before his arms wrap around me, trying to share the warmth of his body with me; a failed effort considering how wet he is as well.

"I wish you'd believe me when I tell you that you are the only one for me," he says with sadness colouring his voice.

"I do..." I begin instantly.

"If you did, you would have trusted me when we were arguing earlier," he accuses angrily. He brings the discussion back round to the cause of our earlier dispute.

"I told you I don't feel comfortable talking about it," I stall for time, trying to think through what I want to say.

"Do you trust me?" Ichigo asks such a simple question, I believe it has to be loaded, yet the way he looks at me tells me it is a pure question with a simple answer: yes or no.

I look him in the eyes. "I trust you with my life," I declare, making him smile.

"Why won't you let me in?" he questions, his eyes never leaving my own.

"...I'm afraid," I reply quietly.

"Why do you feel afraid? In all the time I've known you, never once have you been afraid of anything."

I chuckle shortly; wryly. "I've been afraid more times than I'd care to remember. I'm just very good at hiding what I'm actually feeling."

"You didn't answer the most important part of my question," he says, looking intently into my eyes.

I breathe short, but deep breaths. "The way we are now, Ichigo…I like it. I like it an awful lot, in fact. Being with you…I've never known anything like this."

"I like being with you as well. You know that."

"The problem lies in the fact that…if I were to tell you what is troubling me…things will never be the same between us again. Of that, I'm certain."

He grips my hands between his and squeezes tightly. "Nothing will change," he reassures, his eyes shining.

I have to destroy his idyllic vision of our future. "No, you're wrong. Things will change. Things simply cannot be the same. It is an impossibility."

"Rukia, you're worrying me," he says, the concern lacing his tone, reflecting itself in his eyes.

"I wish…I wish I could give you what you deserve," I start before tears begin to slide down my cheeks.

"What are you–"

"You remember only yesterday," I begin shakily, drawing in rapid breaths, "we were talking about the future."

He pauses for a moment. "Is that what this is about? If you're worried I'm thinking too far ahead–"

"I can never become pregnant, Ichigo!" I cry, shocking him into silence.

He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling in archaic imbalance. "What did you say?"

"I can never have your baby," I sob through my tears.

oOo

**Author's Notes: Sorry for the cliffhangar, of sorts, but I felt that there needed to be a point at which this part stopped. Argumentation 3 will be in the pipework; who knows, I may decide to work on it early like I did for this one. My thanks to the alerters and my humblest thanks to Katsumi Hatake, Rukia's Reflection and bubbleboss1022 for their wonderful reviews. Tomorrow morning shall bring a new story for you all to enjoy. Here's hoping you all like it.**

**finaldragonquest**

**16/11/2011**


	10. Blinded

Bleach 10  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Blinded  
><strong>ブラインディッド<strong>

oOo

"Where are we going?" I giggle as I'm led forwards; his hands rest over my eyes, effectively blocking any sort of sight.

"Just be patient," he breathes, his lips so close to my neck, I feel his breath tickle my skin; it sends a pleasurable shiver down my spine. "We're almost there."

"...fine," I mock sulk, making him chuckle.

We continue on, me being blindly led towards a currently unknown destination. The anticipation is almost unbearable; my heart hammers in my chest as we walk.

How did I get dragged into this? I ponder as birdsong filters down to my ears. The sounds of civilisation – cars; people – are all left behind. Now, I can hear the rustle of leaves blown by the breeze which is currently ruffling my hair; a babbling brook sounds nearby, the water crashing against a multitude of stones, while the chittering of small animals barely manages to penetrate the overwhelming sounds assailing me; they are so faint as to be infinitesimal.

So overwhelmed by the sensations flooding my senses, it takes a moment for me to realise that we have come to an abrupt stop. I breathe in deeply – scents of earth and wooded glades remind me of a single word: nature.

"We're here," he says huskily, slowly removing his hands from before my eyes. I feel apprehension course through my veins. I'm unsure of what I will see; the fear of the unknown proves difficult not to entertain. "Open your eyes, Rukia," he says encouragingly.

Slowly, with exaggerated patience, I wink open a single eye; my second opens in shocked haste as the sight before me causes me to gasp – all around us lie giant trees, their branches swaying ever so slightly, occasionally scattering us with leaves; the imposing boughs provide us with a deep cover of shade, occasionally interspersed with beams of light shooting through the leaves, spotting the ground with intense force – light and dark intermingling in stark contrast; meanwhile, in front of us is a small clearing away from the all-encompassing dusk of the wood – shrouded in sunlight, it looks like something from a fairy tale. On the ground, a simple white sheet is laden with a wicker basket full-to-overflowing with foodstuffs.

I turn to look at him, my eyes wide with wonder. "How–?"

"It isn't over yet," he grins, taking my hand. With no small amount of amazement, I let him lead me. Coming up to the sheet, he sits, dragging me down with him until his arms are around my waist and his lips are claiming mine for his own. I offer no resistance, simply enjoying the feeling of connection we share. My eyes close instinctually, simply allowing me to feel his lips moving against mine in pleasurable patterns. As we part, I breathe a sigh of happiness.

"This is amazing," I say, smiling as he opens the basket and begins dishing out our favourites. I begin to feel concerned as he fills two flutes with champagne. "You didn't have to go to so much trouble," I frown, watching as a wide grin settles on his face.

"It isn't any trouble at all," he says earnestly, yet I can sense he's hiding something. I'm unsure of what it is, but the fact that he's gone to so much trouble is an unsettling sign. I rack my mind as to what the occasion can be – my birthday was over two months ago; he hasn't mentioned anything about a promotion – yet I can't fathom anything. My mind is beginning to think of more savoury, unpleasant reasons as to the reason for his actions.

He seems to notice my fast-growing discomfort, for he looks at me with that look of devotion only he possesses. "Is everything okay, Rukia?" he asks sweetly.

I breathe deep, trying to rein in my feelings of doubt – I love him; he loves me – yet still they gnaw at my psyche. "Why have you gone to so much trouble?"

He frowns. "Can I not show the woman I love that I care about her by doing something a little unexpected? A bit spontaneous?"

"No, no," I backtrack quickly, feeling his eyes pierce me. "I'm just…" I begin to mumble incoherently. I daren't say what I am thinking; if I'm correct, it will break my heart. If I'm incorrect, he could decide to leave me, also breaking my heart. Catch-22. Zero percent chance of victory.

He seems to understand what I'm contemplating, however, as his eyes alight with mischief. "Surely you don't…? Oh, Rukia!" I yelp as he smothers me in a hug. "You seriously thought…? I will _never_ betray you like that." I pull back to look in his eyes; nothing but conviction resonates within them. "You thought I did all this because I felt guilty?" I slowly nod my head, feeling the shame embed itself deeply within my being. "I have never, nor will ever, do something like that to you, Rukia. You mean everything to me."

"…sorry," I whisper, unable to voice anything more tangible. My throat constricts painfully and I have to hold back the flow of tears.

"Please, don't cry," he pleads, leaning forward to kiss my forehead, again and again. I can feel his affection seeping into my flesh, making me feel even more wretched for ever doubting him.

"…I love you," I ghost, my eyes firmly affixed to the ground.

"I never doubted it for a second," he says with confidence as he pulls away. "You did though."

I start as he casually throws it in my face. I whirl in anger. "I said I was sorry!"

It's then I realise that I've fallen for his bait once again. He's bent on one knee, a velvet box in his outstretched hands. My breath hitches and I swear my heart skips a handful of beats. Within the box, nestled as a baby chick, lies a stunning ring. "Kuchiki Rukia, I love you with my whole being. It's been three years to the day since you turned my whole world upside-down." I start as I realise that today is indeed the day I gave Ichigo my shinigami powers. "We've been through a hell of a lot since then, yet, through it all, we've managed to stay together. Sure, we have our scraps and our shouting matches, but that's just a small part of what makes us, well, _us_. I don't want to be with anyone else, Rukia. I just know, deep in my heart, that you are my soulmate; in fact, I think I've always known, from the very first second I met you. So, will you marry me?" he finishes with a small grin of nervousness.

I stare at him deeply before my face splits into the widest grin I have ever given. "Yes; yes, I will!" I exclaim, crashing into him. "I love you, Kurosaki Ichigo!" I cry happily, laughing as he wraps his arms around me and spins us round in circles. My body feels weightless and I wouldn't exchange this for anything in the world.

"I love you, _Kurosaki_ Rukia," he says cheekily. I smile at the thought: Kurosaki Rukia. I like it; I like it a lot.

oOo

**Author's Notes: A happy tale after the last couple of decidedly sad and angsty ones. I do thank you all for continuing to put up with my efforts; I appreciate it. My thanks go to the new alerterers™ and my greatest thanks go to Katsumi Hatake, Rukia's Reflection, bubbleboss1022 and adri001 for their kind reviews. Tomorrow will bring a new tale; I hope you'll enjoy it.**

**finaldragonquest**

**17/11/2011**


	11. Direction

Bleach 11  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Direction  
><strong>ディレックシュン<strong>

oOo

"This may be the last time we can see each other," I whisper, looking at the face of Ichigo, my eyes slowly watering. I scrunch my fists to restrain the torrent just waiting for release.

"This can't be..." Ichigo says, shaking his head disbelievingly. "I can't just let you go!" he declares, taking my hand in his, seemingly ignoring the electricity running between us from that simple touch.

"You must!" I insist, not daring to look away from his eyes. Those gorgeous amber eyes, burning with untold intensity, focusing unflinchingly upon my own. "There's no longer anything you can do!" He pulls me closer to him, surprising me.

"Never say that!" he breathes. "Never say that there isn't a way for me to help you. We just have to stick together, right? Just like we always have!" He is pleading now, and we both know it. His hand comes up to my face, caressing it. I instinctively lean into the contact, not wanting it to end but knowing that it must, for both our sakes.

"I must be off," I state, trying to sound decisive but instead I end up sounding so weak and fragile. His head leans toward me, and it takes all of my resolve not to lean forward and initiate the contact that will send us both into blissful oblivion. "Please...?" I ask, hating how lusty my voice sounds.

"Please, what?" he hums, his lips mere millimetres away from mine; I can feel his breath breeze against my mouth, making me tremble in pleasurable anticipation. I close my eyes, giving in to the inevitability of it.

"Ichigo," I sigh, and begin the painfully slow move–

"...and cut!" I blink my eyes open to look out upon the assembled crowd; Inoue, her eyes wide and tear-filled, trying to hold the camcorder steady in her shaking hands; Ishida, standing stoically with an amused smile on his face as he adjusts a light that is burning down upon me; Sado, his muscular arms holding up the microphone above our heads while his impassive face shows no emotion and Arisawa, our master of ceremonies/ director, who barked out the call to cut. Jumping from her directorial chair, she stomps over to us and put her hands on her hips in an exasperated pose. "What the hell was that?" she asks threateningly, staring at me with the force of an explosion just waiting to happen.

"I...um..." I balk as Arisawa moves ever closer to me.

She scrutinises me thoroughly before speaking. "You were supposed to call him Takashi!" she cries exasperatedly, a palm to her forehead in a dramatic exaggeration. "Didn't you learn the lines?"

"Of course I did!" I exclaim, now feeling annoyed. "I just forgot that one."

"Well, because you forgot that one word, we have to do the whole scene again. Ishida! Reset the lights! We're running through that again," she shouts as she stalks away.

"Very well," I hear him reply as he moves to adjust the lighting once more. I stick my tongue out at her retreating back.

"Is everything okay, Rukia?" Ichigo asks quietly, watching my childish reaction with amusement in his grin.

"I'm fine, Ichigo," I proclaim, causing him to angle his eyebrows skywards.

"Is that so?" he begins, taking on the husky voice his character, Takashi, calls for.

"What are you doing?" I question quickly as he slowly advances on me, his eyes never wavering from my own.

"Getting into character," he responds easily, taking my hand in his. I blush at the closeness he's displaying.

"...and action!" calls Arisawa through her megaphone; her voice seems inconsequential to me – all I can see are Ichigo's eyes.

"This may be the last time we see each other," I ghost, my breath failing to fully cover all the words; I end up trailing off towards the end of the sentence.

"That isn't true," Ichigo states with conviction, his fingers linking between my own.

"Ichigo! What are you doing?" Arisawa hisses distractingly.

"I won't ever let you go," he continues as if the interruption never occurred.

"You...won't?" I query, completely forgetting where I'm supposed to be in the plot.

"Kuchiki! Not you too?" she exclaims.

"No. Never. You and I...we belong together," he states strongly.

"Cut!" Arisawa barks; we don't listen.

"You and me?"

"You and I," he confirms as his free hand rests on my cheek; I lean into the contact. His hand is so warm; his fingers trail the length of my cheek, sending a tremulous shiver down my spine.

"I said cut!" she cries again.

"Rukia," he whispers, his eyes closing as he leans forward.

"Ichigo..." I sigh as I mimic his actions, leading to that inescapable moment when we're on the threshold of something new; something tangible; something wholly terrifying.

He opens his eyes for the briefest span. He smiles.

...then he captures my lips with his own.

oOo

**Author's Notes: Goodness! Two happy stories in a row! What is the world coming to? I'm going to have to get my angst on again soon, else I'll have to change the category to Romance on its lonesome. Still, I hope you enjoyed this little tale.  
><strong>**I'd like to request that you have a look at Rukia's Reflections new series of ficlets entitled Death and Strawberry and Other Tales. If you like any part of my series, you'll definitely enjoy hers. Give her some support everybody.  
>My thanks go to the new alerterers™ and my super-special-chocolately-fudge-coated-super-awesome thanks go to allylalina, Katsumi Hatake, Rukia's Reflection, bubbleboss1022 and Kaoru Kato for their awesome reviewing skills. Tomorrow morning shall dawn with another new story for you all to digest. Hope to see you then.<strong>

**finaldragonquest**

**18/11/2011**


	12. Bonds

Bleach 12  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Bonds  
><strong>ボンズ<strong>

oOo

I feel the wind caressing my face as she sits in the careening car, her eyes wide with fear. Her hands shake as she tries to wrestle control of the steering wheel from the drunken man; he shrugs her off, lashing out in his drunken state – his hand meets her face with explosive force. She recoils from the impact, wincing in pain; symbiotically, I feel my own face burn, like an angry welt has suddenly sprouted on my cheek.

On the horizon, nearly at the edge of sight, I spy the literal end of the road. I cry out to her: "Watch out!" I continue to scream as the car approaches the cliff. The vehicle's speed seems to increase exponentially, its wheels becoming a blur of motion as the seconds tick away…

And the drop comes ever closer.

She doesn't hear me, even though I repeatedly shout out to her: "Watch out! Please! For the love of God! Listen!" She slowly – with agonising speed – pulls herself back up…

…all in time to notice the rapidly approaching precipice.

Time seems to slow as her eyes widen impossibly; my heart leaps to my throat as she seems to accept what is happening – her whole demeanour slumps as though she accepts the inevitability of the situation. I see her mouth one word, a single word, before the car, the drunken driver and the young woman plunge over the edge. Her mouth opens in a savage scream, one that is echoed by my own cry of anguish.

Seconds seem to pass by as in slow-motion; the car plummets hundreds of feet, yet the whole experience equates to a lifetime of harsh response – she screams; I scream; action and reaction at its most sadistic. My heart settles deeply in my stomach as I come to a grim realisation: she is going to die; there is no way she can possibly survive this fall. I watch as she closes her eyes and breathes deeply before uttering one final, heart-breaking scream. I begin to cry out to her–

Time speeds up dramatically; her final sound is cut off as the car smashes into the unyielding ground. I watch the whole scene unfold in horrified silence; I feel tears well in my eyes as I look at the damage and know that nothing could possibly survive such a cataclysmic disaster; for now, I hold them back. I see the blood splattered against the shattered windscreen and know that is is hers. I feel my heart shatter at the exact moment flames begin to lick at the wreckage. My eyes water, and this time, there is no restraining the flood; I sob uncontrollably, kneeling to the floor, my eyes shimmering yet fixed upon the grim sight.

A sudden flare of light and heat crashes into me as an explosion of flame engulfs the wrecked vehicle. That is the moment I begin to scream her name: "Hisana!"

My eyes fly open as my scream of anguish transcends the barrier between reality and fantasy with startling clarity; I continue to scream – it tears itself out of my open, horrified mouth, ripping at my throat. "Hisana!" I cry again in anguished hurt, tears creeping from my wide and terror-filled eyes.

"Rukia!" His worried voice registers in my mind as his hands settle on my shoulders. "Shh…" he soothes, rubbing his thumbs in calming circles against my skin.

I collapse against his chest, my screams slowly subsiding into wracking sobs as he holds me close. It takes a long while for me to stifle my sobs. Throughout it all, he holds me tightly, lending me his companionship and support. At length, my breathing settles into a pained yet regular rhythm. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks quietly.

I turn my face so that he can hear me. "I had a dream," I say just as quietly.

"Dreams don't make you wake up in the middle of the night," he responds calmly.

"…they do if they are like that," I whisper, the trepidation clear to be heard in my voice.

He sits thinking for a span. "What did you dream?" he asks finally.

I sigh heavily, a shuddering gasp. "I dreamt of her again."

"Your sister? You were screaming her name when you woke up."

I nod my agreement. "I was almost floating after her, like I was anchored to her. She was in the car, heading to that damned cliff with him; the drunken one…he hit her. I had to watch as she…as she…oh God…I could see everything…the explosion…" I am unable to continue at this point as the tears are ready to blossom once more and I refuse to be this weak again tonight.

"There was nothing you could have done for her," he says evenly. "Both in this dream, and in reality. You know that, don't you?"

"It doesn't stop me from feeling guilty," I answer, feeling drained emotionally and physically.

"You need to rest," he says soothingly, moving to lie down with me. As my head touches my pillow, an enormous yawn racks my body. I have a sudden recollection, one that makes my head spin. "I saw her mouth one word, Ichigo. Hisana," I add when he looks at me in confusion.

"What was it?" he asks.

"My name. The last thing she ever said…was my name."

He doesn't move to deny what I dreamt; instead, he smiles deeply at me. "That's a sign of the depth of your bond with your sister. You are the one person she chose to honour with her last living thought. You should feel proud of that fact."

When I think of what he says, I do feel proud, but more than that, I feel gratitude; I feel grateful for the fact that she was my sister. "Thank you, Ichigo," I say as my eyes begin to droop.

"For what?" he questions as he wraps his arms around my body like a blanket of protection.

"Do I need a reason?" I raise my eyebrows.

"I guess you don't," he chuckles before his head rests next to mine. "Pleasant dreams, Rukia-chan."

I allow myself to smile in spite of the apprehension still clawing at my heart. "Pleasant dreams…" I ghost as sleep claims me once more.

oOo

**Author's Notes: In case you are unaware, Bleach Movie 3: Fade to Black is now available on the net in English. Rejoice! You can hear Johnny Yong Bosch curse epically at the main antagonist. Lol. My thanks to those of you keeping tabs on this tale, and me, in some cases, and my utmost gratitude goes to allylalina, Katsumi Hatake and Bree Renee for their kind words. Tomorrow shall be a new day; a new tale awaits.**

**finaldragonquest**

**19/11/2011**


	13. When We Were Young

Bleach 13  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

When We Were Young  
><strong>ウェン・ウィー・ウァー・ヤング<strong>

oOo

"We're almost there, Rukia-chan," said my sister, Hisana. It was a blustery sort of day; 'perfect for drying clothes,' as she always used to say. I held onto her hand for all I was worth. This 'outside' was truly a terrifying place, filled with strange things and even stranger people. It was completely unlike the mansion we lived in; that was a place where order and continuity were paramount. Outside, the rules were thrown into the breeze; people raced about, shouting their piece to a usually ignorant crowd. They jostled for position, power and praise; to my fledgling mind, it seemed as if the world I believed in had become a very small piece of something much, much larger.

"Nee-sama," I began tentatively, tugging on her hand to gain her attention; I was feeling horribly overwhelmed by all I was discovering, "is the outside usually this busy?"

She laughed lightly at my question; a soft, lilting sound like wind chimes, yet even more subtle for it. "Oh, Rukia-chan," she said endearingly as she bent and kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry. This must be so confusing to you." I snuggled into the contact, always enjoying the affection she so readily gave. "The world is a very large place," she began, taking my hand again and leading me ever onwards, "filled with even more people. There is so much to see and do, and people will always be rushing to see more of it; to experience as much as they possibly can." I didn't really understand what she was saying, but I accepted that the outside was probably going to be like this for the foreseeable future.

At length, we approached an enormous building, where many children my age or older were racing about, laughing loudly or speaking with others. A small group of adults kept a close watch over them. "Well, here we are, Rukia-chan," she said with a definite sigh to her voice. "Your new school."

I looked at the building; it was tall and scary. I couldn't see the reason why all the children seemed so happy. Compared to what I was used to back at home, it seemed like a prison rather than a place of learning.

"I don't understand," I said with apprehension. "Why can't I study at home, like I used to?" There was a definite hint of pleading to my voice.

"Byakuya-nii-sama thinks it a good idea for you to be enrolled at this school," she said, the distaste creeping into her tone. "He hopes you will learn of the world by studying here." She stooped to my level and wrapped her arms around me tightly. "It's only for a few hours per day, Rukia-chan. I'll be back for you before you know it." She smiled brightly.

"…do you really mean it?" I asked uncertainly. She looked at me with concern blossoming in her eyes.

"Of course I do, Rukia-chan. I would never lie to you. Okay?" she asked as I tried to stifle some stray tears that wanted to bloom.

"…okay," I said shakily.

"Ah, Kuchiki-chan," said an elderly lady with a kind, if withered face. "It's a pleasure to welcome you to our school. I assure you, she is in safe hands," she said to my sister who had an anxious expression on her face. The elderly lady took my hand and began to lead me into the imposing building.

"Hisana-nee-sama!" I cried as I was led away.

"See you soon, Rukia-chan," she sniffled as a few tears fell from her eyes. That was the last thing I saw as the doors shut closed behind us.

"So, Kuchiki-chan, I know you'll become fast friends with the young people here," she said as we wandered down long hallways; the walls were covered by paintings and drawings by the school's many pupils. "There are a lot of people here who have been waiting for someone just like you."

"They have?" I asked timidly, watching as a deep smile settled on her face.

"But of course," she replied confidently. "Why, I know of at least a dozen young people who would love to have a friend like you. Just be more confident, Kuchiki-chan. I realise that everything seems strange and scary to you, but you mustn't be afraid. Okay?"

I nodded shyly in response. She didn't say anything more, but nodded anyway, seemingly pleased by my response. Finally, we came to a stop outside a large door. "This is your classroom. Wait here a moment, Kuchiki-chan." She loosed her grip of my hand and slid the door open before stepping in and closing it. I fidgeted with my skirt while I waited. At length, the elderly lady slid open the door, stepped through again, slid it closed, then smiled at me. "They're waiting for you, Kuchiki-chan. Show them your true self."

I didn't understand what she was saying to me, but I nodded politely anyway. She smiled deeply as she walked away. The door opened once more and a much younger lady poked her head through the opening. "Kuchiki-chan. We've been expecting you. Please, come in."

Shyly, I stepped through the proffered opening. My eyes alighted upon a large room filled to capacity with chairs and tables; children sat at them, all wide-eyed with wonder at my entrance. "We have a new student joining us today. Please, introduce yourself to the class." I stared at them all, my eyes wide with fear and apprehension. "Go on," she said in encouragement.

"…um…My name is…Kuchiki Rukia…Nice to meet you all," I said in halting, stuttered snatches of words. I bowed my head quickly as the other children began to speak to their friends in whispered sentences.

"Thank you, Kuchiki-chan," the teacher said, a gentle smile gracing her lips. "Take a seat next to the boy with the umbrella by his desk." I looked over to who she meant; a small boy, hardly older than me, with a black umbrella leaning against his desk. His face spoke of pain I hadn't ever experienced; he sighed deeply as he lazily looked at me. I smiled shyly at him; his face betrayed no emotion, other than to sigh and lower his head into his bundled arms.

I took my place; placing my bag and coat down at my desk, I turned to face him. "Hello," I whispered timidly, feeling highly nervous. "My name is Kuchiki Rukia. What's your name?"

He turned to face me, his eyes shimmering with restrained emotion. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo," he said quietly. He wrapped his head in his arms once more.

"Now then, we shall begin with basic mathematics," said our teacher briskly, going to the board at the front of the room. I forgot about the boy for the moment and began the day's study.

In next to no time at all, we were being ushered out of the classroom to where our relatives waited. I spotted her, waiting by the door, her hands wrung between one another in agitation. "Hisana-nee-sama!" I cried in delight, bounding up to her and enveloping her in a massive hug.

"Rukia-chan!" she exclaimed, equally joyful at our reunion. She hugged with as much force as I did, wrapping each other in our relief at being reunited. "Did you enjoy your first day?"

"It was okay," I admitted, looking around her at the boy I sat next to all day. Nobody was waiting for him; instead, he trudged off on his own. I felt sorry for him, even though I hadn't said more than a handful of words to him.

"Is everything okay, Rukia-chan?" she asked, noticing the change in my attitude.

"Everything's fine, Hisana-nee-sama," I said quickly as we headed to the limousine. I decided at that moment that I would try to know him a little better. "Kurosaki…Ichigo," I breathed as the car began to roll towards the mansion.

oOo

**Author's Notes: I've decided to delve into a different idea this time; what would happen if Ichigo and Rukia were friends from a young age? How would that change their dynamic? I hope you're all still enjoying this; almost two weeks worth of stories now. Time sure flies by... Anyways, onto the thanks. My thanks to the new people alerting and my greatest possible thanks go to Katsumi Hatake, Rukia's Reflection (x2) and bubbleboss1022 (x2) for their awesome reviews. Tomorrow will bring another story; look forward to it.**

**finaldragonquest**

**20/11/2011**


	14. When We Were Young 2

Bleach 14  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

When We Were Young 2 (Day 2 – October 6)  
><strong>ウェン・ウィー・ウァー・ヤング<strong>

oOo

After Hisana-nee-sama left me at the school gates, I rushed to my classroom. I wanted to see him – Kurosaki Ichigo. Throughout the night, I thought about him constantly. I couldn't understand how someone so young could seem so sad. It didn't make sense to my fledgling mind. When I reached the room, he was already sitting at his desk, the same sad expression plastered on his face; the same sad, little umbrella perched against his desk; the same indifferent expressions on the faces of his fellow classmates. I couldn't understand why they would feel the need to segregate him the way they were, but I was determined not to let it continue.

I strode over to his desk and glared at anybody who dared to stare at him; they all looked away nervously – my face was livid and my emotions were raging. He must have noticed my presence as he swivelled his head to look at me; his eyes were quiet in their regard. "Good morning, Kurosaki-kun," I said sweetly, watching as his eyes gave way from sadness to surprise.

"You…you're…speaking to me?" he asked in a quiet, strained voice that made my heart prickle. I felt anger at his classmates for making him feel so inferior. Instead of voicing those opinions, however, I chose to simply nod brightly at him.

"Why would I not want to, Kurosaki-kun?" I asked with concern. He chose to shrug; a pitiable expression, to be sure.

"Nobody else wants to," he said without anger; rather, with quiet acceptance.

"Well, I'm not everybody else," I said with a big smile. He looked at me, his face scrunched as though he was deep in thought; he seemed to come to a decision as his eyes opened wide with quiet hope, and he offered me a short smile.

"Good morning, Kuchiki-san," he grinned weakly, holding his hand out to me. Instead of shaking it, however, I leaned forward and gave him a brief hug. He hesitated, seemingly not knowing what he should do in the situation; in the end, he kept his arms held rigid to his sides while I embraced him. As I pulled away, he looked at me with a questioning glance.

"I prefer hugs to handshakes," I said in answer to his unspoken question. He nodded before he opened his mouth, then quickly closed it again. "What is it?" I asked him, noticing the sudden action.

He shrugged his shoulders again. I accepted that he didn't feel comfortable discussing it there and then. It was enough that we had progressed beyond being merely neighbours in the classroom; now, I could honestly say that we had the beginnings of a real friendship.

"Would you eat dinner with me?" I turned to him, my eyes wide as the question came out of his mouth without any conscious thought on his part seemingly, for he looked extremely embarrassed. He turned away shyly, his cheeks turning bright red.

I merely smiled. "I'd like that," I hummed. He smiled slightly before focusing his attention to the front of the class as the teacher walked in. His smile faded a little but at least he didn't seem quite so sad anymore.

The teacher seemed to notice as well. She looked over us all before noticing him; she gave a slight gasp of happy surprise. "Kurosaki-kun! You seem a little happier today."

He seemed embarrassed, especially when all the children turned to face him, suspicious gazes surrounding him. I watched with dissatisfaction as he shrank back from them. "I am," he mumbled, his head held in his hands again.

The mutterings began then; all of his classmates, who were supposed to help him, were talking about him in muttered sentences. Their voices were like an angry swarm of bees, too far away to see yet close enough to hear the ferocity of their chorus. "Stop it!" I shouted, rising to my feet in an angered state. "Stop talking about Kurosaki-kun!" Everyone looked surprised, none more so than the boy in question; his mouth was open and his face spoke of wonder.

"Kuchiki-chan!" came the teacher's shocked response. "We don't allow shouting in the classroom. Must I tell your guardians?"

"Tell them to stop being mean to Kurosaki-kun, then," I retorted with an angry glance at everyone in the room; I had been studying Byakuya-nii-sama to the point I could mimic many of his expressions – even he had no idea just how proficient I had become.

"Class, settle down," the teacher spoke in an authoritative tone. "Kuchiki-chan, please sit down." I did as asked, even though I was still angry. I chanced a glance at Kurosaki-kun – his eyes were shining and he offered me the first genuine smile I had seen. I smiled back at him.

The bell for lunch rang; all the other children raced off to find their friends and get their lunches. I waited for Kurosaki-kun; he was fidgeting with his umbrella. "It isn't raining, you know," I said as I walked over to him. He looked at me for a second before his head sank.

"I know it isn't," he responded evenly. "It doesn't matter if it is or is not raining though. Wherever I go, this umbrella goes with me."

"Is it…important to you?" I asked quietly. He nodded slightly.

"Yes," was all he said before he went quiet. I didn't mind; I was getting used to his silent phases. I took his hand – he yelped in alarm – and together we raced to the cafeteria.

"Why is it important?" I asked between mouthfuls of lunch. We were sitting outside on a small bench; none of the other children would come near us. I realised that we were now officially outcasts, or rather, that he had always been one and by defending him, I had joined him in the circle of separation. I didn't really mind though. I didn't want friends who would be so heartless and lacking in compassion and understanding.

He chewed slowly on his meal before swallowing. "I don't really want to talk about it, Kuchiki-san," he answered haltingly, his attention focused solely on the food sitting on his lap.

"…okay," I responded. He turned to me, his face an expression of wonder. "What? You thought I was going to make you tell me?"

"…maybe," he said embarrassedly.

I laughed shortly. "When you're ready to tell me, I'll listen. That what friends do, Kurosaki-kun."

"Friends…?" he questioned, hope blossoming in his chest, judging by the colour appearing in his cheeks.

"Friends," I agreed, feeling that he was someone I would like to have in my life.

"I haven't had any friends before," he admitted quietly.

"Can you keep a secret?" I whispered, moving my mouth near his ear. "Neither have I."

"Do you think…_we_…can be friends?" he asked whisperingly.

I surprised him by hugging him again, just like earlier in the day. "I'd like that," I replied.

"So, Rukia-chan, did you have a good day?" asked Hisana-nee-sama as I exited the school building. "Oh, and who is this?" she asked as she noticed the boy following me out of the school, the umbrella held firmly in his hand.

"He's my first friend," I said proudly, smiling at him.

He smiled at me, before bowing lightly to my sister. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo. Pleased to meet you, Kuchiki-san."

Hisana-nee-sama smiled deeply; already, he had endeared himself to her. "Likewise, Kurosaki-san. Rukia-chan, we have to be going."

"Can we drop him off home, Hisana-nee-sama?" I asked pleadingly.

"Sorry, Rukia-chan; Byakuya-nii-sama is expecting us," she said apologetically, smiling at him lightly.

"It's fine," he said. "I don't want to put you out. I'll see you tomorrow, Kuchiki-san."

"Okay; bye," I said with a smile and a wave. As the car rolled away from the school, I felt as though I had achieved quite a lot. I had stood up for someone else and made my first real friend in the process. I could tell that things were only going to get better from that point onwards.

oOo

**Author's Notes: Two weeks have come and gone; goodness, how fast does time go? Since this series began, I've spoken to a lot of different people and made lots of new friends. Hopefully, you'll all continue to support this series. My thanks to the multitude of new alerters over the last few days; my utmost thanks go to Rukia's Reflection and Katsumi Hatake for their reviews.**

**finaldragonquest**

**21/11/2011**


	15. Argumentation 3

Bleach  
><strong>ブリーチ<strong>

Argumentation 3  
><strong>アーギュメンテイシュン<strong>

oOo

He stares at me, his eyes radiating the shock I knew he'd experience. I suppose it was bound to be so; after all, how does one say that they are infertile in a positive way? No spin doctor could ever possibly figure that little conundrum. So, rather than drag it out, I decided to be forthright and, perhaps even brash, about it.

I look to the ground as I feel his arms shake slightly, my tears peppering the floor beneath my face. I can't bear to see the look of pain that will undoubtedly be etched across his face. A man's pain is always far worse to see.

"I'm sorry," I breathe, wishing with all my heart that I didn't have to force this burden upon his already laden shoulders. "Honestly, I am _so_ very sorry." My tears continue to fall unhindered.

"Are…are you certain?" he gulps, his fingers tense against my skin.

I nod sadly before realising that he probably isn't paying attention to the motions of my head.

"Yes. I'm certain."

I raise my head and wipe at my eyes.

"Think about it, Ichigo."

He gazes into my eyes and I can see the hurt brewing within them; a maelstrom thrumming with unparalleled force.

I continue unimpeded. "I am a shinigami."

"What of it?" he says. "So am I."

I shake my head again, slowly and without mocking. "To an extent, yes, you are."

He looks at me in surprise.

"Ichigo, you are _alive_. I am not. You are flesh and blood. I am a soul."

"What does any of that matter?"

"I'll give you an example, okay? Think of an animal who is heavily pregnant. Now, suppose this animal were to be involved in a horrific accident and she died. People would be rushing to save the dead mother's young, wouldn't they?"

"Yes, but–"

"With the mother dead, the young cannot survive for very long. The young needs constant warmth; protection; oxygen; food. Without them, the young would simply…wither away into nothing."

I breathe heavily, a rasping gasp of pain before I conclude my allegory.

"The same is true with humans, of course. Think about it in a very literal sense, Ichigo. How can _I_, who am _dead_, support _life_?"

He looks devastated by my well-reasoned, totally truthful arguments. I'm not trying to be horrible to him, not at all.

Except…

I cannot lie to him about this. It is too big for me to do that. In the future – whether near or far, it doesn't matter – this would become an enormous issue of contention, one we may not be able to overcome.

Therefore, it is surely better for us to try to work through this now. Far better that it be out in the open before he becomes too heavily ingrained in the idea of us having children together.

"Rukia." His voice is so quiet, like he is having difficulty finding his voice. I face him, showing him just how deeply this cuts me as well. I _hate_ that I am unable to give him children. I _hate_ that I am unable to mother a child of my own. I would love to be a mother, especially if Ichigo were to be the father. He, me and our baby. What could be more wonderful? More right? More _perfect_?

"Rukia, I…" he stammers falteringly, failing to string together more than a couple of coherent words before he falls into lapsing spasms of broken sentences.

I relieve him of his spluttering.

"Shh…I understand. I realise that you…that you no longer want to be with me."

"Wha–?"

"Honestly, it's alright. I mean, how could you want to stay with me now, knowing what you do?"

"But–"

"I'll take only a moment to gather a few things and then I'll be out of your way."

I turn to leave.

"Stop, Rukia!"

His hand closes around my wrist, effectively stopping me. I turn to face him, tears dripping from my eyes, my chest heaving in stifled sobs. His eyes are piercing; a scorching blaze is contained within their depths; and he has a blazing expression on his face.

"What are you babbling about?" he demands.

"What?"

"You think I want to leave you…because of _this_? God-damn it, Rukia. I thought you knew me much better than that."

His hand curls around mine, his fingers entwining themselves with my own.

"I don't…understand…" I grind out.

He smiles deeply.

"I'm not going to abandon you because of this. You honestly think I'm going to throw away everything we have together because you can't have children?"

I remain poignantly silent.

"You did? Well, I'm _not_, I _won't_ and I never _will_."

I gasp in surprise.

"We've been through far too much for us to give it all up now."

His eyes soften.

"Right?" he asks softly.

A challenge.

I study his face, searching for a sign of insecurity or concealment. "…Right," I say finally, finding no evidence of deception in his clear, revealing eyes.

With little preamble, he moves his arms and wraps them about my form, an all-encompassing shelter of warmth and protection enveloping my whole being.

"I love you, Rukia. I truly do," he says, his face buried into my neck.

I try to respond with the same words, yet they stick in my throat. For some reason, simply repeating the words to him doesn't seem to have any significance. I want to show him that I love him, that I really believe in us as a couple.

Taking his hand, I place it tenderly on my breast, directly over my heart. "Rukia?" he asks, the confusion clear for me to see.

"Do you feel that, Ichigo?" I ask, knowing that there can be no mistaking the rapid thuds resounding in my chest. "I know that this heart is only manufactured for the purpose of deception, but I want you to know that _my_ heart, my true heart, belongs to you."

"Rukia," he says, his tone one of wonder.

"I want to be with you, Ichigo," I say, my voice shaky; it worries me to hear how scared I sound. "You and me, for the rest of forever."

He looks deeply into my eyes for a second before his lips come crashing into mine, claiming them for his own with bruising pressure. My eyes flutter for the briefest moment before I melt; I meet his assault forcefully, giving as good as I get. As we become increasingly breathless, he breaks our kiss, takes a small breath - one I mirror - kisses me lightly, then steps back and smiles serenely.

"For the rest of forever," he agrees.

oOo

**Author's Notes: Here is the conclusion to Argumentation. I do sincerely hope that you have enjoyed this particular series of stories. I haven't decided what will come next within Black Sun Rising, White Moon Soaring, but I hope that you will enjoy it. My greatest thanks go to Rukia's Reflection, Katsumi Hatake, adri001 and SomethingInTheWater for their numerous and varied, yet always wonderful reviews. I'm hoping to have a new chapter to Ever on the Move up in time for Christmas, but in case it isn't ready, I want to wish you all a very Merry Christmas. Ho Ho Ho and all that jazz :)**

**~finaldragonquest~**

**23/12/2011**


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